I do not own TVD or TO.

I labeled the past and present scenes in this chapter and I'll try to remember to put those in from now on.

2011

Elena twisted the ring around her finger and eyed the oak shelves with their leather bound volumes; they were the same books she had used to teach Thierry how to read. The only thing different about the room was a new computer on the desk. Everything else was exactly as she had left it in 1992 including the privacy spells over the doors and windows.

"So," her voice was heavy with sarcasm as she leaned back on her heels, "what are you and the little rascals up to?"

"Don't joke, they're the best of the best," Marcel crossed his arms; his tone held a silken thread of warning.

"They are children who failed history," she rolled her eyes. He had clearly forgotten who he was talking to.

Elena dropped to sit on a leather club chair where she drummed her fingers on the arm. She fixed him in the unblinking stare she had perfected in the 20s.

"Don't you go giving me the 'mom' look," his mouth curled up in a smirk, but there was an unmistakable thawing in his voice, "I swear I cleaned all of my dirty laundry."

"We need to talk about the Harvest," she leaned back in her seat.

"I already know what you're gonna say," he held out his hands, dropping to sit across from her. "You are going to side with the witches."

"Don't presume to know me so well," her eyes flashed with an unfathomable light.

"You were my best friend for seventy-three years. You saved my life, and shared my home," he tilted his head. "I know you, Elena, and I know you're gonna land on the side of magic cause you always do, but you don't know the facts this time."

"The Harvest is a ritual performed every three centuries – give or take a decade – in which four teenage girls are sacrificed to renew the connection to the ancestors." She twirled her finger in the air. "The girls are supposed to come back and be celebrated as pillars of the community. If the witches don't appease their ancestors their link to that magic will fade away."

"Do you believe it?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Do you believe they come back?"

"I never presumed to understand ancestral magic."

"Would you have risked the lives of innocent children? My rules are the same as yours Elena: no kids. So tell me the truth."

She met his eyes and leaned forward in her chair; sorrow danced in her eyes.

"No, I wouldn't have done it," her voice grew soft. She held her hand out to keep him from interrupting. "I would have stopped it before it began, and I don't think that's what you did."

For the first time since she had entered the compound she saw his confidence slip and got a glimpse of the man she had known for decades. His eyes dropped to her knees. She suspected the privacy spells were the reason he didn't try to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

"I tried, Elena. I tried."

"I'm sure you did," she reached for his hand, squeezing his fingers. She didn't want to say the next bit, but it couldn't be left. "Did the girls…?"

"Three of them are dead," he hung his head.

Elena's head snapped up and for a moment she could only stare at him. She had expected no survivors.

"One of them is alive?" A tense know began to form in her stomach.

"We stopped the ritual," he nodded, basking in the knowledge of his power and proud that he had achieved it alone. "Now Davina tracks anyone using magic for me, and my army enforces the rules and takes out anyone who breaks them." He was going to go on when he saw the look of dread on her face. "What is it?"

Elena chewed her bottom lip and stood up to pace in front of the desk. She didn't know if the girls would come back. She didn't know if they would stay dead, but she did know the Harvest. She knew each girl who died passed her power to the next. She knew no girl – no person – was capable of holding that much power. And the though the thought shattered her she knew the magic would eventually kill Davina.

"You have to give her back to the witches." She wanted to weep for the girl she had never met.

"Are you crazy? Did that eighteen year nap addle your brain?" Marcel stood, his voice rising. "Davina is the only thing keeping those witches in line. If they get their hands on her they will kill her and take back control of the city, and they will take it back with a vengeance."

"Don't you think I know they'll kill her?" She glared at him. "She's a child. She should be protected. It should have never come to this point."

"What point?"

"The point where it comes down to a choice between an innocent girl and the city," she shook her head. "Give her back and pray the second part of the ritual is true because if you don't the ancestors will use every element invoked in the ritual to destroy the city."

She knew if the ritual went unfinished more than four would rest in early graves.

The sound of a grandfather clock chiming the hour drew her eyes to the corner of the room.

"I have to go if I'm gonna make it back to Mystic Falls in time. Can you clean up the Harvest on your own?"

"I've been successfully cleaning up after myself for almost twenty years. What's your rush?"

"I'd like to spend a little time with my son before I hurry back. I'd hate to be late for AP Biology." Her mouth curled in distaste.

"After everything you're seriously going back to high school?"

"Until I find what I'm looking for I need to keep up appearances," she sighed in resignation, "I'll call to check in when I can." She had missed her friends while she was gone, but she had already graduated once.

Marcel watched her walk to the door.

"Would it really be that bad?"

Elena paused with her hand on the knob and turned to look back over her shoulder. Originals might have scoffed at her next statement, but she knew the words were true.

"The ancestors will make Klaus and Kol look like children playing war."

1914

She didn't think it was possible but the shelves looked like they held more objects than they had the previous evening. Her nerves had been all but shot and she thought she might still be in a bit of shock so she marvelled over her surroundings and ran her gloved fingers over the shelf until reaching a set of iron shackles.

She hesitated before picking up the cuffs. Through her gloves she felt an electric shock raising the hairs of her arm on the path to her heart; the organ clenched painfully.

Mary Alice's voice startled her into dropping the iron onto the shelf with a clang and a sense of unease she hadn't realized was there lifted.

"Who is she?" She regarded Elena with hardening eyes.

"You're kidding, right?" Elena's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"She's not, darling," Kol grinned, "you're still wearing your ring."

"Right," Elena nodded. Twin scarlet stains appeared on her cheeks. She pulled her gloves from her hand and slipped the gold ring from her left hand into her jacket pocket. She had completely forgotten it.

"Ah," Astrid nodded approval in her eyes, "a glamour spell."

"There are many people who know Elena's features," Kol glanced up from the table, "I couldn't have her being recognized."

Mary Alice wanted to ask what witch he had approached for the spell, but she had a feeling she didn't want to know the answer. So she nodded to the bright red coat.

"I see you've purchased some new clothes."

Elena slid off her coat when Kol came up behind her. He aided her in removing the sleeves and hung the wool on a coat rack while the witches scrutinized the violet dress.

"Better?" She held out the sides of her full skirt and twisted slightly.

"Modern," Mary Alice looked the doppelganger over, "bright, revealing," Elena touched the sleeves, "I doubt the style will catch on."

Elena could practically hear the words she wasn't saying: you look like a ten cent whore.

"Maybe not," she cleared her throat and decided not to mention the length hemlines would eventually shrink to. For the time being she would settle for shutting the blonde up; she could practically feel the animosity coming from the witch. "Maybe it will never catch on, but at least if I'm recognized I'll have a chance – however small – to run. Brown and grey may be neutral colours but I wouldn't get very far in that skirt."

Elena's eyes flickered to the tapered material around Mary Alice's feet. She knew without donning the garment that she could only have managed the tiniest of steps. Bringing her gaze back up Elena smiled sweetly.

"So what are you guys working on?" She walked around the table and eyed the mess that they had left. "I didn't realize witches were involved in Chemistry."

"It's a new magic that Kol learned on the shores of the Red Sea," Mary Alice picked up a sparkling gem. "It's called Kemiya."

"We use a perfect paragon diamond to focus our magic," Astrid continued. She reached out to take the diamond.

Elena picked up a bracelet and ran her finger over the twisting vines of metal. She kept an ear on the conversation, but the majority of her attention was on the trinket in her hands; there was a feeling growing in the back of her mind accompanied by a rush of blood in her ears; it was a nauseating sinking despair, and she got the sense that if she fought back any action she took would be futile.

"What's Kemiya?" Elena heard her voice through water. The sense of despair was accompanied by a rush of absolute power that unsettled her.

Kol settled his hand on the small of her back and with his free hand he gently took the bracelet from her grasp and placed it on the table.

"It's the intersection between science and spirit, darling," he met her daze eyes; slowly the haze cleared. "With the right chemistry you could realize your wildest dreams."

Elena's heart skittered when he gave her a searching look, but she had no idea what he was looking for. The witches' chanting drew her eyes to the left where the bracelet stared up at her.

"What's that for?" She focused on the object in the hands of Mary Alice and Astrid. The seven-pointed star looked unassuming enough; it could have been a decoration for a Christmas tree, but then they dropped it with a grunt of pain and it didn't look so innocent anymore.

Kol plucked the object from the table with a smirk. He fingered one of the points, careful not to break the skin.

"A knife that can cause a thousand cuts with one throw," he tilted his head. "I had planned it for the traitors who dare to work with my tyrannical wanker of a brother so they wouldn't have a chance to say a word of their pathetic spells, but I have a better use for it now."

Elena opened her mouth to say something about how horrible that was but her jaw snapped shut as he presented the star to her. She looked from his hand to his face and back before shaking her head.

"I could never use something like that." There was absolutely no way she was going to take that from him. "That thing could kill someone. I can't use it."

"Not even on Klaus?"

Elena's breath hitched as she stared at the object that she suddenly realized could mean the difference between her life and death. A thousand cuts would incapacitate an Original vampire, maybe even long enough to enter a human's house where a threshold would protect her, at least for a little while.

She bit her lip until it throbbed before she finally raised her hand and carefully took the knife from him. She starred at it like it might bite her if she took her eyes off it. She retrieved a handkerchief and wrapped it up before dropping it in her ridicule.

"Do I want to know that the shackles and bracelet do?" She mentally applauded when her voice didn't shake.

"The shackles stop a witch's power," Astrid massaged her fingers, "and the bracelet forces obedience."

"That's despicable," Elena gasped. She didn't know which of her companions to direct her disapproving glare at so she just stared at them all with wide eyes.

"And every weapon is more disturbing than the last," Astrid crossed her arms. "We have more than enough; it's time to make our move."

"Do you ever tire of being such a spoil sport Astrid?" Kol groaned, throwing up his hands. His brows drew down in an exasperated frown. "We don't have to use them all. The important thing is to show Klaus' witches that you're more powerful than they ever imagined; scaring them into standing down."

Elena swallowed and noted the set lines of his face. Her heart hammered as she stared around the tomb and wondered just what kind of man she had gotten involved with. What kind of man created such objects to use against his own brother?

"And it will scare Klaus the same way he scared me for centuries…"

Elena's eyes snapped to Kol as he strode across the tomb and opened a glass cabinet with a key from his pocket. His voice echoed back from the glass case.

"All my immortal life my brother has controlled me, stolen decades of my life, all by the constant threat…"

Elena knew what if was going to be before he turned around with the hilt of the blade in his hand and suddenly she saw beyond the angry clamp of his mouth and dark eyes.

"… Of a dagger to the heart." He stared at the silver for a moment and then looked up, pointing with the blade to the shelves. "All of these dark objects are merely practice for you to hone your skills," he turned the hilt to Mary Alice, "for this…"

Kol met Elena's eyes over their heads; his lips twisted into a tight smile.

"… A dagger of gold that will work on Klaus and Klaus alone."

They had stayed in the cemetery for a few hours until Kol heard Elena's stomach grumble and decided it was time for a late dinner.

He scrutinized her pensive expression from across the table and the methodic movement of her fork from the plate to her mouth.

He lowered his fork and tilted his head.

"You're awfully quiet this evening."

"How do you know I'm not quiet all of the time?" She stared at her plate.

"While it's true that we haven't known each other long," he folded his napkin in half, "I feel like I've gotten to know you over the course of our short acquaintance."

"And today I got a glimpse of you," she looked up through her lashes.

"Ah ha," he nodded. "The dark objects?"

Elena lifted her chin and met his eyes. They had once been open, but now they were guarded by walls that hid his thoughts.

"You've gotten a glimpse of the demon within, and you're thinking that my reputation as a blood thirsty psychopath is spot on," he cocked an eyebrow. "You think I'm crazy and murderous."

"No," she cut him off, "I don't think that." He gave her a pointed look. "I don't think you're crazy, or murderous, or a psychotic maniac." She saw Kol's eyes narrow and offered a name as an answer: "Astrid."

"That does sound like her," he chuckled. His expression turned serious as he leaned over the table. "If you don't believe the rumours then what do you think of me?"

Elena hesitated before hooking her feet around the chair's legs. She leaned closer and tilted her head, searching his dark eyes for confirmation of her conclusion.

"I think you're angry," his brows lowered, "because your brother is a 'tyrannical wanker'."

"I haven't made a secret of that," he frowned. "I believe I've been quite vocal about it."

"Protecting future generations of magic," she rolled her eyes, "is a line for the witches, and maybe you do care about their problems, and maybe deep down you do want to help them, but you're not getting them to make these objects so they can instill fear."

She took her ridicule from the table and pulled out the throwing knife, sliding if towards him.

"I told you to keep that," he didn't break eye contact when the star reached him. He caught her wrist and flattened her palm over the dark objects; he could almost feel the magic through her skin. "Just because you have something doesn't mean you have to use it."

"Will that be your philosophy when you have a gold dagger?"

"There is something to be said for the art of terror," he smirked.

"You don't want to scare him, Kol," she shook her head. It was hard to think with the way her hand tingled under his. "You want to protect yourself because you're scared. You're scared that he'll steal more time. You might be more afraid of Klaus than I am."

"I'm not afraid of anything," he dropped his eyes and started to back up.

"That's the first lie you've told me." She flipped her hand over and grabbed his hand, wrapped her fingers around his. "You are afraid of him, and I get it. It's okay. I'd think you were crazy if you weren't scared."

"Soon he'll be the one shaking in fear," he swore. Something in her eyes stopped him from continuing. "What is it? Honesty goes both ways, darling."

"You've…" she chewed her bottom lip before sighing. "You should be afraid because you're gonna lose."

"How could you possibly know that? You said you knew nothing of this war," disbelief flickered over his features.

She felt tears threatening to spill and blinked them away. She could say it, but it was hard; Kol was the only one who hadn't despised her or plotted her death from the start.

"I know because you…" she closed her eyes and tried again. "I've met Elijah. I've met Klaus, and I've met Rebekah, but I've never met you." She had never gotten a full explanation, but she assumed Klaus had dredged up his sister after Elijah let him live.

"That doesn't mean anything," he shook his head. "I once went two centuries without seeing my siblings."

"No," she pressed her lips together, "that's not it. I haven't met you because you were daggered…"

He paled visibly, terror flashing in his eyes as he whispered: "he always takes it out."

"… and dropped at the bottom of the ocean."

Astrid watched her friend read through the prepared spell with vacant eyes and knew without a doubt that her mind was far away, envisioning the scene where the 'young couple' were sharing a late supper in 'their home'.

"You're going to give yourself frown lines," she murmured. Picking up a dried flower, she started plucking the petals.

Mary Alice slapped her hands on the table making Astrid jump.

"Why is he helping her?"

"Because she was in need of his help," she sighed.

The months spent with Kol Mikaelson in preparation of war had painted a clear picture of the Original in her mind. He was a conniving fox using the pair of them for his own gains and Mary Alice was blinded by her lust for him to the point to the point where she just couldn't see his psychotic ways.

"Anyone in New Orleans could have helped her," she spat.

"There were two outcomes to that," Astrid shook her head. "She would have either wound up in an insane asylum, or someone would have taken her to Klaus. You heard her and Kol; if Klaus uses her he'll become even more powerful than he already is."

"I understand that," she dropped to sit on a stool, "but that doesn't mean he has to treat her the way he does."

"Treat her like what?" Astrid's eyes narrowed. "He's been nothing short of the perfect gentleman." Hope rose in her chest. Was Mary Alice finally seeing him?

She stared at her friend with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

Astrid had been certain she understood the Original but the last few days had only served to confuse her. He was a mad cap trickster, but then a brunette he called a doppelganger fell from the sky and she had seen a different side of him. She hadn't thought him capable of common decency, but that didn't change the fact that he was still using the pair of them.

"He thinks she has information that can help him, but this is what he wants," she turned the dagger over in her hand.

Put it down and walk away, Astrid thought. Leave him to her and let her do whatever it is to him that's making him act the way he is.

The blonde stared at the blade for a long moment before holding it out to Astrid and meeting her dark eyes.

"Let's try it again."

Astrid sighed before holding out her hand.

She stared at the metal star on the nightstand and leaned forward. There was a stiffness in her neck and she knew she couldn't look at it anymore because if she did the knots in her stomach would turn to full blown nausea.

She strode to the writing desk in the corner of her bedroom and ripped a thick sheet of paper from a heavy book. Moving back to the bed she picked up the star and folded the paper over it before setting it down again.

She didn't think sleep would come anytime soon and the last thing she wanted to do was stare at the ceiling. At home she would have curled up on her window seat and written in her journal until her vision swam and sleep crept in, but there was an itch in her legs, a tingling sensation under her toes and no window seat in sight, so she slipped her feet into the house shoes at the foot of the bed, wrapped a blue sweater around her body and moved into the hall.

His home was beautiful with high ceilings, gleaming hardwood floors, pocket doors and more bedrooms than he would ever need since he liked to live apart from his siblings. There were five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a living room, a library, and a study in addition to a 'modern' kitchen and a large dining room.

Fifteen rooms spaced out over two floors and Kol wasn't in any of them.

She was starting to think he had gone out to meet with the witches when she stepped into the kitchen and felt a cold rush of air. She wrapped her arms around her torso and tiptoed toward the door that hadn't completely closed. Through the glass she spotted the still form of who she sincerely hoped was Kol. She hurried back into the hall, opened the linen closet and snatched a couple of heavy woolen blankets.

He didn't look up when she walked outside or acknowledge her presence at all until she was right beside him and holding out one of the blankets.

"I thought you might be cold," she brushed her fingers over his during the transfer and an electric jolt raced up her arm.

She unfolded the second blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She curled her legs under her body as she sat on the edge of the wool next to him.

"Should I not have told you?" Her arms curved over her stomach.

"What reaction were you expecting when you told me my brother is more of a wanker than I thought he was?" He straightened his spine. The blanket sat heavily in his hands.

"Honestly," she sighed, "I thought you'd accuse me of lying, or something."

"I know you weren't lying to me." He shifted closer to Elena until he could feel her body heat. "Your heart jumps when you're dishonest."

"So what are you doing out here?" She curled and uncurled her toes.

"Thinking," he shrugged, "staring at the stars." He lifted his knee, propping his elbow on it. "Mulling over the knowledge that one day I'll be sleeping with fish at the bottom of the ocean."

"Was he always like this?"

"Not always," he glanced at the tip of her nose; it was growing red in the still air. "It's hard to remember a time when he wasn't. I don't think I know what a good brother is anymore."

"How did you get to this point?" She turned her chin to look at him. "How did it come to the point where you can't even be in the same house?"

"Eternity is a long time," he shrugged, "eventually people grow apart."

"They're your family. I can't imagine getting to a point where I'd go to war with family."

"Do you have siblings Elena?"

"A brother," she swallowed, lowering her eyes. There was tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with the cold. "I miss him. I can't imagine anything he would do that would prompt me into giving someone a weapon that could kill him."

"Then he's not like my siblings."

"Do none of you get along? I would have thought transitioning brought you closer together."

"It did," he laid back and stared up at the night sky. "It made Elijah, Nik and Rebekah thick as thieves with their ridiculous vow of family above all that they only ever extended to us when it suited them."

"Us?" Elena shifted her hair over one shoulder and stretched out next to him on the cobblestones. She curled in on herself at first but the ground warmed the longer she was on it – that or she was going numb.

"Finn," he snapped open the other blanket and draped it over her, "daggered these last eight centuries."

"Were you and Finn close?" She rolled on her left side and studied his profile.

"Finn was… we should have been close, but he couldn't stand the sight of any of us after the transition. I used to look at him and see the disgust in his eyes; he hated what he had become."

Cool fingers slipped into his hand causing a tingling sensation under his skin.

"You're freezing," he squeezed her fingers. "You should be inside."

"I'm okay for a little while." She felt like he needed someone just to sit with him for a bit and it wasn't that cold next to him.

"If I put my arm around you am I going to be nicked?" He smirked. "A thousand cuts won't kill me, but it would be bloody uncomfortable."

"I left the devil's star upstairs," she shrugged, with a trace of laughter in her voice.

"The devil's star?" His gentle laugh rippled through the air.

"It seemed fitting."

"Fair enough."

Kol let go of her hand, slipped his arm under her body and drew her closer until he could feel her body temperature: still at a normal level. She shifted to watch the sky and he felt his eyes drawn to her face.

"I left it upstairs folded in a piece of paper," she played with the blanket's edge, "it makes me feel uncomfortable when I touch it. It feels like I'm holding…" she chewed her lip while thinking of the perfect word, "… death. I've never felt anything like that."

"I'm certain you've felt stuff like that before."

"Death in the palm of my hand?" She arched an eyebrow and tipped her head up.

"Perhaps not that," he held out his left hand, "but other things." Lifting the edge of the blanket he located her hand and laced their fingers together. He felt the tingling sensation again and heard her breath catch. "What do you feel now?"

"You, inappropriately holding my hand?" She guessed.

"But wrapping my arm around you was fine?"

"You're warm," she emphasized the statement by moving a few inches closer.

"So you admit you're cold?"

"Who said I was cold?"

"One of these days I'll get you to admit it," he chuckled, "but for now I'll settle for you listening to me. Close your eyes love, and just feel."

"I've heard that line before," she murmured, but closed her eyes all the same.

At first she could feel nothing beyond the heat of his palm, but then there was a rush of ice through her veins and without thinking about it she moved closer to the warmth of his body. The cold didn't last long before she felt a mix of intense emotions wash over her: blood boiling rage, heart stopping fear, throat closing sorrow, supressed flickers of guilt, an overwhelming sense of loneliness and the start of warmth behind her heart.

The feelings were extreme, emotionally draining and not hers.

Kol heard her whisper 'you' before she slipped into sleep. He marveled at the weight of trust she was showing him and let her sleep until he felt her cheek cool before carrying her inside to her bed.

He brushed her hair away from her mouth and watched her sleep for a long moment before standing and unfolding the paper. He blanched when he found nothing inside and stared at the perfect likeness of the devil's star on the page.

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